


lmao, guess i'll just die

by Myshipnevercanon_myfandomneverpopular



Series: Geralt didn't like it [2]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Dark Humor, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion Being an Idiot, Jaskier | Dandelion Has Feelings, M/M, References to Depression, Self-Hatred, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, doesn't know how to show it tho, self hate joke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:02:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25554769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myshipnevercanon_myfandomneverpopular/pseuds/Myshipnevercanon_myfandomneverpopular
Summary: Jaskier has a weird sense of humor, he joke with his own death and self-hate. Maybe more than a joke it is the truth of how he feel. Whatever it is, Geralt finds it stupid.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Geralt didn't like it [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1616284
Comments: 6
Kudos: 108





	lmao, guess i'll just die

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't hit me I'm not native(;-;

“Come on, Geralt, we don’t have to get up this early. Even the sun is still asleep, there aren’t any reason we should be awake.” Jaskier whined as he walked by Roach side, clinged to his lute. His eyes couldn’t even fully open and walking fucking  _ hurt. _

Geralt shifted his eyes just so slightly to ‘pity looked’ at the bard, he did not answer to the bard whine. Jaskier scoffed at the silence, he pouted and straightened his back. Aggressively rubbing his eyes, he knew that Geralt had a reason to travel this early, the witcher absolutely wouldn’t go that far just to piss him off and from his experience of traveling with this witcher, it was save to assumed that the reason is legit. So when the witcher woke him up, he got his ass up and followed. But however, complaint was definitely on the table.

“My god, you really does take the early bird thing to far, Geralt, the earliest bird is still fucking asleep.” He said sarcastically, swinging his leg forward disturbingly kicking some of the dirt from the floor. Geralt scoffed faintly, enough for Jaskier to heard it though. He wrinkled his nose at the witcher’s amusement on his pain. “I mean for real. I would rather sleep now and never wake up again than this. Bards need their sleep, it’s for our lovely voice.”

Geralt raised an eyebrows to the joke, Jaskier had always been dramatic and he was getting a grip of that, but death is still a weird thing to joke about for a human. He thought they are frightened even just the concept of it. Jaskier saw the changes in the witcher’s face even so slightly, it is enough for a sleepy bard to be offended. 

“What? Are you doing that to criticise my profession technique, witcher? That is offensive even for you, I assume I have no choice but to prove you wrong with my beautiful songs.” 

The witcher grunted and turn away from the bard, listened to him sang the intro of a song he never heard before in his life. He didn’t correct the man about the critique, even only after a short time traveling together he found the singing bearable He brushed the weird joke off and sank in the sound of the lute strummed.

‘Young bard humor, I guess’

* * *

  
  
  


After a long week in the forest, surviving mostly in camps with Jaskier bickers in the background, they were  _ finally  _ in an inn. The owner agreed to let the bard play in exchange of food, gin and room. So, in the evening, rather than sleeping off like he always, Geralt was sitting at the corner of the inn to make sure Jaskier doesn’t get killed or kill someone. The audience could be considered nice, they was humming to some of the songs and no one threw anything at the bard. He saw some of them slid coins to Jaskier, even.

When the bard return to the table, he already smelled like alcohol. Not like it surprised Geralt or anything. Jaskier sat on the chair wobbly and took another glass of ale to himself.

Geralt scoffed at the bard, “You finished?” He shifted his seat and readjusted his belonging, getting ready to leave the table. Despite his usual annoyance when the bard complain about the luxury of having a bed to sleep in, he couldn’t deny the fact that he does enjoy it after a long road like now.

The bard smiled and glanced at him, “No,” he answered, wavering. “the night is long, witcher. Why don’t you spend it as it’s worth?”

Geralt hummed at the answer he also expected, after months of companionship he acknowledge the bard’s love for good drinks and had no reason protest it when he could join.

They drank some ale together, another fascinating thing about the bard is that he could keep up with witchers when it came to drinking. The man knew how to handle the cups well and it was nice for a witcher to finally had someone to drink with. Jaskier babbled about his love of poetry, how he found blacksmith in the south looks like old gods in debt and how good he actually was at dagger (Geralt did not agree but the way Jaskier eyes lit up in passion was nice). The witcher was just resting on the chair, enjoying his drinks and listening to the bard talks.

The night grew old, most people had left the inn already and Jaskier began to speak nonsense, Geralt stopped him from ordering more ale. While they were finishing their last glass, he noticed the bard zoned off.

“Humans are so weird sometimes, you know?” Jaskier said softly, it was more like a conversation with himself. “We are so fragile, literally everything hurt us. And when it hurts, it hurts bad. Funniest part is after the wound heal we walked right back to the world knowing it would hurt like shit.”

“Yes, you are weird.” Geralt laughed at bard, a human rumbling how weak mankind is.

“I mean, seriously, witcher, my kind are such losers ever our own mind hurt us.” Jaskier gulped the ale down his throat before looked up at the witcher like he just noticed the most confusing thing in his life. “My dear god- it, it sucks to be one of a mankind, Geralt, we fucking hate ourselves so fucking much, our thought killed us quicker than any monster could.” 

After staring into nothing for a few seconds Jaskier eyes widen in amusement of his relisasion, “Geralt! Human- we are so fucking fragile we are too dangerous for ourselves!” He laughed at his words, throwing his head back with laughter. His face was even redder than before.

Geralt softly chuckled at the bard, he found what he said absurd and true. He gulped the rest of his cup empty. Jaskier said jokingly with laughter, “Now that I realised it, I kind of want to kill myself and reborn as an old lady’s cat or something.”

The witcher was frozen at the man’s word, he had noticed along their journeys that this kind of joke, ones that play with death and the worth of his own life seemed to be Jaskier favorite. He got mixed feeling about it. “You are drunk, Jaskier. Don’t fucking kill yourself just because you’re weak.”

The bard laughed like he just told the funniest joke ever, he wiped tears from his eyes. “Holy shit, Geralt- but if you would to kill yourself, how would you do it?” He asked giggling, downing the last of his cup. “I would get really drunk and sleep by the sea, let the tide take me.”

“I wouldn’t kill myself.” Geralt answered and stood up from his stall. “Let’s go already. I’m tired.” 

Jaskier whined and rolled his eyes but got up and led him to the room. The witcher looked after the drunk man, confused by how the bard’s mind works.

* * *

The bard whined and curled against his bedroll when Geralt tried to wake him up with his leg. He had catched a cold and hadn’t stop complaining since the first symptom shown. “Fuck you, Geralt. I’m sick, let me sleep.” 

Geralt scoffed at him, he knelt down by Jaskier. “I know you are, Jaskier. You haven’t shut up about it.” He said, pulling a blanket Jaskier put over his face down. The bard groaned but raised up. He rubbed his eyes a bit while groaning non-amused noise.

The witcher placed a bowl of medicine he prepared on the bard’s lap. He softly chuckled when the face cloud up. “Finish it.”

Jaskier cried but gulped down the whole bowl. After the last drop went down his throat he pulled the bowl away like it the most disgusting thing ever. His face cringed at the aroma it left in his nose. “Are you sure it suppose to be this disgusting?”

“It’s good for your body.” Geralt took the bowl from the bard and rest it to the side.

Jaskier laid back down, “Congratulation, Geralt, you’ve found something I almost hate as myself.” He mumbled.

Geralt turned to him, his brow raised at the man. “Do you hate yourself?”

Jaskier closed his eyes and reached for the blanket to put back on his face. He snorted at the witcher. “Of Course I do, old man. There’re like negative three things nice about me.”

“It’s a joke, witcher, don’t act as old as you actually are.” He said mockingly. The bard fell asleep almost immediately after his eyelids met.

Geralt stood up, he looked at the sleeping man. His brow fused together. It was not a good joke, it didn’t make sense. It was a joke because Jaskier hate himself? The joke was stupid.

  
  


Jaskier got injured.

First time with the witcher around. Not that bad, he got scratched in his forearm by a beast. The wound wasn’t anywhere near deep and didn’t hit any artery and fortunately it was clean. For some reason though, the witcher was the one to overreact rather than the bard who had a particular reputation to be a bit dramatic.

Geralt expression after slaughtering the beast, when he noticed the blood leaking on his doublet was… new. The witcher was either in rage or shocked, Jaskier couldn’t get a hold of which seemed more uncharacteristic from him. Whatever was going on in the witcher’s head, he acted like it was first drop of blood he ever seen, would need to ignore the corpse in the back and like hundreds of monster he killed though.

He grabbed the bard and _threw_ him on his shoulder. Carried the man, running to their camp that was like, 3 minutes away. Because Jaskier was still traumatised, fascinated by the beast he didn’t get in the witcher’s way. ‘My god, it is way more terrifying than Geralt describe.’ was on his head the whole time, ‘shit, that thing was _horrifying_ , holy- I could have died.’ Geralt placed him on the bedroll, not until then did the bard saw his face.

The witcher was visibly  _ stressed _ , his brows were wrinkled and eyes were so stiff, it looked exactly like when he on a hunt. Jaskier tensed up even from the atmosphere. Geralt searched through the bag he kept potion in, he pulled out lot of bottles of potion of herbs. the witcher grabbed a bowl out and mixed something with other thing in it. Jaskier couldn’t really focused on anything, he was too busy being uncomfortable. Geralt yanked his damaged arm and pour whatever liquid it was on the wound.

The bard squeezed his eyes shut at the pain. It hurt like squeezing lime to open eye but Jaskier did not let a sound out of his mouth. He wasn’t scared of the witcher, it was something else. A  _ pray i _ s what it was like.

Geralt body was noticeably relaxed when he saw the blood stopped pouring out of the bard. He glared up and stared in the man’s eyes. Jaskier stiffed up somehow more than he already was when their eyes fixed. “What the hell Jaskier? Why was you fucking there?” The witcher roared at him, bearing his teeth.

“Well, my dear, you were gone for the whole fucking morning for your herb. How the fuck am I supposed to react?” And of course, even when wounded and slightly frightened the bard wasn’t going to be scowled at without at least complaining about it. “No offense, love, but of course I am going to look for you!” He scoffed, turned his face away from the witcher who definitely was offended.

“Oh, so it’s my fault now?” Geralt asked raising his voice with rage. “Isn’t it common sense that you don’t fucking wander off in the forest,  _ especially  _ if a witcher just went missing? How in the hell is it my fucking fault?”

“First off, I was there because you are someone to me not  _ a witcher _ . Fine, it’s not your fault but neither is it mine. If you are going to leave me alone in the forest and planned on going somewhere to die, expect me to be there.” Jaskier said, shifting his arm back to himself, bad decision.

Because his attention never really turned to the fresh wound on his arm, he didn’t notice any pain at all. Now that he focusing in it, the shallow scratch hurted way more that it looked like it should and that was when immediate move didn't seemed to be a good move anymore. His body jumped to the pain striking through his body, his face crumbled and his mouth turned to a screaming dictionary of every cursed words ever. 

Geralt’s face was filled with worry in a second, he moved on the bedroll and gently picking up Jaskier arm. He reached for a roll of cloth and began to takes care of the wound. Jaskier saw the warmth in his eyes and didn’t interrupt, he put the clean cloth around his arm delicately like Jaskier was going to break. The bard smiled softly at him, it was not normal for the witcher to be this gentle, Jaskier had saw him take care of his wound.

“Sorry.” The witcher whispered softly, just enough for Jaskier to heard it with his eyes fixed on the ground like a guilty child. The bard smile softly and moved down to find the witcher’s eyes.

“It’s not your fault, alright?” Jaskier replied lightly and warming. “Look, Geralt, hey,” He called the witcher and traced his eyes, trying to met his glance. When the witcher gave out and looked him in the eyes, he continued, “it wasn’t your fault okay? I said that just because you yelled at me. I’ve travelled with you for a few years now, it should be enough to know that know that you are very much save and I’m stupid to decide wandering off like that is a good move.”

Geralt sighed, “Don’t do that again, you could’ve died.” he said before clearing the kit back to his bag. 

Jaskier snorted, he carefully laid down on the bedroll. “If dying is what to follow, I would like you to wander off more.” He said jokingly, giggled at his joke. Geralt looked down at his face, face crumbled again.

“Don’t say that.”

“What?” Jaskier asked closing his eyes, relaxing his body. “Would it be fine if I take a nap?”

“It’s fine but don’t say thing like that, dying is not… good.” 

“Geralt, it’s a joke.” Jaskier said, more of a mumbled. He turned to his side, bearing his back to the witcher. 

“The joke sucks. It’s not funny.” , he replied softer than his usual speaking. Though, Jaskier could clearly heard a child in his voice. “I don’t like it.”

Jaskier giggled at the witcher, rolling his head to see the his face with something really close to a pout on. He smiled and nodded, “If you don’t like it, I won’t say it.” He spoke with warm smile in his voice.

The witcher nodded back and Jaskier did go easy on himself to count the rare curve on Geralt’s mouth as a smile.

**Author's Note:**

> i have a headcanon that Jaskier is actually GenZ born in wrong generation. 
> 
> Anyway! Comment pls it heals my depressed ass a lot.


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